Fishsticks
by Ghastly One-Eyed Minno
Summary: A once-peaceful lunch period goes awry when Osaka's curiosity gets the better of her. Rated for comic violence.


_A/N: This story is surreal, short, and based on a very bizarre dream I had. And yet somehow, it seemed to fit in very well with the tone of the show. Please let me know what you think of it._

_Warnings: Comic violence, trite questions about fishsticks, and crackfic. And apparently a +5 lunchbox of holding._

_Standard Disclaimer (of Doom!): Azumanga Daioh is the sole property of Kiyohiko Azuma and related distributors. I'm just playing around in their sandbox while they're not looking._

_Additional Copyright Disclaimer That I Added On A Whim: I don't own the Twilight Zone for that matter, but I'm sure a vague passing mention of somebody else's intellectual property would not warrant suing my pants off._

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_**Fishsticks**_

_by Ghastly One-Eyed Minno_

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"Hey, they're serving fishsticks today!" Kagura announced to all and sundry, jerking a thumb behind her as she sat her tray down at the usual table. Most everybody held an attitude of complete and utter ambivalence towards the statement.

Almost.

"Oh, yeah! Friggin' awesome!" Tomo shouted, pumping her fist in the air.

"I thought you hated fishsticks," Yomi said, her voice a low monotone. She would be slightly disconcerted by her friend's outburst if she wasn't used to it by now.

"I do!" she replied, clearly oblivious that her childhood friend was about to reach across the table and cut off her air supply. She was saved at the last moment, though, by a small, breathy intonation that originated somewhere to her right.

"Ah!"

Everybody recognized that sound by now. It was the Osaka sound. The sound that signified that Osaka's brain had stumbled across something to which it had no answer; and, as befits the nature of her bizarre, trademark style of acumen, it was no doubt concerning a matter that most others deemed completely inconsequential.

Her head swiveled dreamily towards the others, almost of its own accord, and a single finger meandered towards her chin. Signs that she was dwelling on the matter, no doubt. It was only a matter of time before she asked whatever odd question was drifting around inside her mind's airy landscape. "Hm..." Here it comes. Everybody braced themselves in anticipation. "Exactly what part of the fish is the stick, again?"

"Um," Chiyo started, encyclopedic mind flipping to the right page, "I think it's just named that because of the shape it's in. I don't think there's really a part of the fish that--"

"Nonsense!" Tomo interrupted, accompanying her outburst with a playful karate chop to the prodigy's skull. Everybody half-leapt out of their chairs in defense of the little ten year old.

"Stop hitting Chiyo-chan, Tomo!" Yomi barked, hands once again easing into their familiar choke hold position. "You could really hurt her!"

"Oh come on, she deserved it! Just 'cause she's a prodigy doesn't mean she can tell us any little ridiculous story and have us go for it hook, line, and sinker!"

"Oh yeah?! What do _you_ think the answer is, then?" Kagura snapped, turning to face her fellow knucklehead accusingly as Sakaki looked after Chiyo-chan's head injury.

"Easy!" She backed up her claim with a broad grin and a thumbs up.

"Oh, then please tell me, Tomo! What part of the fish _is_ the stick?" Osaka repeated in breathless anticipation.

Tomo held up one hand to call for silence as the other one moved into her lunch box. All eyes turned towards her, some eagerly attentive, some silently dreading how she would manage to make a fool out of herself yet again.

"This part!" she yelled, producing an improbably large fish from her tiny box. Everybody could only watch helplessly as, gripping it by the tail and uttering a mighty battle cry, she swung it across the table towards her best friend as if it were a baseball bat. It hit dead on across her face with a limp, slimy "THWACK!" sound. Silence resounded throughout the cafeteria. Everybody stared in disbelief.

Ears ringing, glasses askew, cheek red and tingling, all senses overwhelmed by the powerful stench of Inexplicable Fish (tm); Yomi was temporarily stunned, and her brain was reeling to process the illogic that the past few seconds had devolved into. Slowly she steadied herself, adjusting her glasses with one hand while the other one rubbed the spot where she had been fishslapped.

"Did..." she began unsteadily, hoping she hadn't suddenly gone crazy or fallen into the Twilight Zone, "...did you just... hit me with a _fish_?"

"Yup!" Tomo nodded proudly, holding the fish up for her to see.

"Wh... what...? Where...? H-how?" She couldn't quite comprehend it all, and quite frankly, she wasn't really sure that she wanted to either. One thing was very clear in her mind, though. She suddenly wanted to murder Tomo.

Very.

Badly.

As the pair ran through the dining hall leaving a trail of overturned tables and chairs in their wake, a confused voice piped up.

"But... that didn't answer my question at all!"


End file.
